All I Ask
by Phantom531
Summary: House gives Cuddy her birthday present and they discuss/diagnose Erik, the Phantom of the Opera. Huddiness implied with some good tension. One shot. It's really not as bad as it sounds, please read & review!


Ok, I'm real, real sorry about this! I had to get it out of my system! Please read and review, I'm sure it can't be as bad as I think it is! :) But seriously, has anyone ever attempted a serious House-Phantom cross-over? I DON'T OWN ANYTHING

* * *

Cuddy shuffled through the papers on her desk. Dr Greg House sat across from her, staring at her. Finally, she slammed her hands down on the desktop with a sharp bang.

"House, _what_ are you doing here?" she shouted.

"Staring at you in that lovely top," House answered. Cuddy glared at him.

"And why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"Right now, I'm staring at your breasts while I wait for another reason to stare at you, which I'm sure will come along soon enough," he replied, giving her a smile that –while Cuddy would never, ever admit it- made her heart palpitate.

"If you're going to just sit there, go somewhere else. Now!" Cuddy snapped. House didn't move and Cuddy felt her temper rising. How he could do this to her completely mystified her, not to mention disturbed her. She stood, hoping she looked at least moderately threatening, despite the face he was nearly a foot taller than she was. This very stance and glare usually sent people scurrying like rats, but not House. He was a different kind of rat. He just sat there staring at her and smiling his smug smile.

"I like it in here. It's cushy. Not to mention the entertainment is stellar," House quipped. Cuddy stalked around her desk and grabbed his arm.

"Out, now!" she ordered, giving his arm a firm jerk.

"Should I leave without giving you your birthday present?" he asked.

"What birthday present? It's not my…oh…" she trailed off, glancing at the calendar on her desk.

"Don't worry, I forget too sometimes. Just shows that you're getting older is all. I'm going to be so depressed when those wondrous perky fun-bags of yours finally succumb and sag," House told her. She resisted the urge to smack him. He handed her a small envelope and stood at last.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"Damn, I wanted to be out of the room before you started in on the gratitude," House grumbled. Cuddy tore the envelope open.

"Tickets to see _Phantom of the Opera_?" She was surprised, pleasantly so, and rather shocked that he had even thought of getting her something, much less something she'd want. He hadn't gotten her anything for her birthday in years. She looked at him, puzzled. His blue eyes dropped to the floor.

"You have the CD in your car and I saw the playbill for it on your coffee table once or twice before. I figured it was a sure thing and a way to get out of clinic duty for…"

"_No_, House."

"Fine then. I'm in protest. I do something nice for you and you get all mean on me," House said, replacing himself in his seat.

"You should like it too, House. Gives hope that even crippled, psychotic asses can get a girl as long as they're brilliant," Cuddy snarled.

"Meanness continues! And Erik wasn't crippled, he was disfigured."

"Oh, you know his name? I'm impressed!"

"I read the book in highschool. It was boring drivel until he threatened to blow the place up for that little chickie of his," House said, feigning offense. "If you ask me, I don't think she was worth it. He should have just blown the place up, regardless. He deserved some release."

"Oh, please, he was in love for the first time in his life! He just wanted her to love him, I don't think he would have done it," Cuddy replied. House shrugged.

"He didn't like the human race. Nothing much to like. I don't like it and I don't have half the reasons he did, poor bastard. At least I wasn't _born_ like this."

"Close enough," Cuddy mumbled, but House heard her and glared at her.

"Oh thanks!"

"While we're on the subject, what, in your brilliant diagnostician's opinion, did Erik have, House?" Cuddy asked. House sat and thought quietly for a moment.

"Well, the initial disfigurement was a birth defect. Are we going after what came after?" he asked. Cuddy shrugged. House frowned and thought for a moment, then he snatched a piece of paper off her desk and scribbled a few things on it. Cuddy rested her chin in her hand and watched him.

"Initial birth defect was the absence of a nose. Are we going from the original Gaston Leroux version? Or Susan Kay?" House asked. Cuddy raised an eyebrow.

"You've read Kay's version?" she asked in shock. House's eyes dropped again.

"No. One of Wilson's exes had it and I flipped through it. Either way, the disfigurement is pretty much the same," House muttered quickly. Cuddy smiled at him and motioned for him to continue.

"Extremely intelligent with an anti-social bend, probably because of the neglect and abuse he's suffered all his life. It's mentioned in the original novel he has a smell to him, 'like death', I think it said. That could probably be attributed to living underground with a lot of mold and mildew. I can't imagine hygiene was a big concern, even to the gentlemanly-type Erik fancied himself. The fact that his hands are mentioned as being cold all the time could also be attributed to the underground living, although that doesn't sound cool enough, and since this is just for 'fun', I want to say he had Buerger's Disease.

As far as a psychological standpoint, he obviously doesn't like people. He's even more misanthropic than I am, since he had the notion of actually dropping a chandelier on a whole audience. Hmmm, that's a new sculpture hanging from the ceiling in the lobby, isn't it?"

"If you dropped that, it would fall into the nurse's station and reception; you'd end up maybe injuring a nurse or two and I'm pretty sure any of them would track you down and kick your ass," Cuddy chuckled. House shrugged, took a breath and continued.

"Obsessive compulsive, controlling, massive inferiority complex, and moderately psychotic, not to mention completely and stupidly in love; Erik probably would have turned out the next Mozart, if not better, if he'd been left alone or with a normal face, but because of his initial deformity, a genius gets demoted to a mere psychopath and murderer. Although I have to admit, he did have a good idea living underground like he did. No one to bug him. Hmmm, doesn't this hospital need a ghost, Cuddy?" House concluded.

"No, we don't. But you've got enough in common to warranty a good comparison anyway," Cuddy said. House grabbed his nose.

"Oops, you were saying?" he asked. She shrugged.

"You pay piano, you're brilliant to the point of psychosis, cranky, anti-social, controlling, and obsessive. You're him!" Cuddy teased. House seemed to think on this.

"All I need is a mask."

"I think the cane is enough," Cuddy said. House shrugged and checked his watch.

"Ooh, General Hospital is on in a bit. Gotta go!" he said, rising to his feet. Cuddy glanced at the tickets on her desk.

"House?"

"Can't talk. Doctors in love await!" he called over his shoulder, hobbling to the door.

"Will you go with me?" she asked. House froze, but he didn't turn to face her.

"What?"

"There are two tickets. You got me two," she said.

"I thought you'd take Wilson, or whatever his name is that you were seeing before," he answered. His voice had gone quiet. Almost like he was holding his breath.

"I want you," she said. His eyebrows went up.

"To go with me," she added quickly. She was a little surprised when it came out of her mouth. It was the truth, but she'd be damned if she'd ever have let him know that before. House finally turned to face her, his eyes boring into hers. Cuddy herself had blue eyes, but she always noticed House's- they were different; more piercing, more firey...more beautiful.

"Why?" he asked. "Why me?"

"You got me the tickets. I figured you should go with me," she sputtered. A smile flickered across House's face. He walked back to her and leaned in. His mouth passed so close to hers that she could feel his breath against her tongue.

"I know why, and yes, I'll go," he said. His lower lip almost touched hers, so close, so damn close she could feel the heat on her skin. Abruptly, he pulled away from her and rushed out. As he left, he let out a Phantom-like cackle and slammed the door behind him. Cuddy let out a long-held breath. Her fingers cramped and she realized she'd been murderously gripping the back of the chair. Her heart was beating and she was sure she was blushing. _Damn it, House_! She swallowed and returned to her paperwork.

Outside, House watched Cuddy sit back down. She was flushed, shaking. Oh, he knew she'd wanted those tickets, and he knew what kind of reaction he'd get from her. And he knew she'd want him to go with her. Smiling to himself and licking his lips, he strolled down the hall to his office. He had gotten Cuddy to sweat through that perfect, low-cut top -practically got her to bust a button, really- and he had three little fellows to torture today. Life wasn't good, it never was, but it was better today.


End file.
